


Detox

by h00ligan



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry, no incest fr, very heavy drug abuse cw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-10-28 14:10:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20779886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h00ligan/pseuds/h00ligan
Summary: Klaus was never too big of a man to seek help when he actually wanted it, and his siblings got him better than any NA group.





	1. Luther

Of all his siblings, Klaus' relationship to Luther was... the most strained. Some parts of him felt like it was resent on one of their behalfs. Klaus, the emotionally open one who left as soon as he could and had a real life, or at least an approximation of one. Luther, the one who never disappointed their father, never felt the compulsion to fill his need for attention from their distant father with acting out, whose powers were more or less, well, useful, and harmless. 

The impulse to sober up was pretty rare, happened if ever. But, when he was in a newer part of town, missing someone, he'd take advantage of it before his common sense jumped back into his body.

But, Diego didn't want to see him, Allison just had her baby, and Vanya... he always associated his memories of his sister with his authoritarian father. Maybe it was unfair, to say that she just stood aside while Reginald did what he did, after all, she was ordinary, but it put a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Which left him with his most distant sibling.

As though Ben could read his thoughts, he made a motion at smacking him. "Rude."

He'd taken to pretending Ben wasn't there. It was bad enough he was a homeless junkie, he couldn't be seen talking to thin air, too. 

_[5:45 a.m.] hey bro meet me at griddys in 20._

_[5:46 a.m.] if you don't have one of daddy's missions_

[5:50 a.m.] you sure you're not trying to get diego?

_[5:51 a.m.]_ _nah, he kicked me out_

So, there he was at Griddy's, nursing the cup of coffee. "You're an absolute _angel_, Agnes," he said with a grateful smile, putting whatever coins he had on the table.

"I want a doughnut with chocolate icing," Ben said, pointing at the racks of doughnuts. 

"Well, do you have 'doughnut with chocolate icing' money?" he replied glibly.

Luther came in, ducking his head at the frame. "Oh, so you're here?"

"I'm the one who contacted you, Luther, why would I ghost you?"

"I don't know, to get high again?"

"You'd love it if you'd try," he replied, singsong. "I need to... keep busy for a few days. You have any, like, independent missions?"

"You know, surprisingly, bank robberies have kind of fallen off since you guys left."

"Who said I never did any good?" he replied with a joking smile. "Really. I, uh, need a way to keep busy, and I can't go back in the house."

"Why not? Pogo and Mom miss you a lot."

He only shook his head. "Too many familiar ghosts, if you know what I mean. Oh, Agnes. Mind if I," he lifted a cigarette to his lips, and she nodded. 

"I know you did pretty well with language lessons."

"Ugh. _Please_ don't tell me you want me to go to that cholera graveyard so I can brush up on my Russian." He dropped his head back. "Somehow, those corpses are nastier than the decapitated ones."

"No, there are language classes at the library."

"Oh, yeah! The library's a thing, isn't it?" Just like that, he got up. "Good chat, bro, please be a stranger. Right?" He looked up. "Hey, Agnes, can you get me one of those frosted doughnuts? Put it on the big guy's tab."

Luther's kind of help was as indirect as possible. He never really liked associating with his mischief maker of a brother, not that any of them really did. 

The library was new, which meant no ghosts, which meant peace and quiet as he read through any language book he could find, and even a couple of original translations from some of those stuffy philosophers. Now, why wouldn't Dad ever have him read Foucault? He seemed like a roaring good time, and the distraction even got him through withdrawal.

It was roughly a month before some... creep with ghosts around him came and disturbed his one quiet place, and that meant time for contingency.


	2. Diego

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This series will be a series of snapshots of them at different ages, mostly through their twenties, but distant flashbacks for Five and Ben

Diego was... Klaus' literary foil. The two were the closest siblings (without getting weird about it) in the family following Ben's death. He didn't know if it was their years of living with each other, or the fact that apparently they were the only two that recognized truly how deeply awful their father was, but there was a comfortable kinship there. If they hadn't been brought together so forcefully by Reginald, he liked to think they'd still be friends. They were hard to come by for Klaus, who condemned himself to a life where friends were a rotating door, they'd sell each other out for a sentence reduction, assuming they didn't overdose, or hop on the wagon. 

The life of a hedonist was, predictably, quite lonely. But, he supposed, better to be a lonely hedonist than to make himself miserable like his brother did.

"Remember when Five would help us sneak out to fast food places?" he asked wistfully, pushing pieces of chopped kale around his plate. Diego had no appreciation for cuisine. His mouth watered for the days of that lovely Italian chef who he spent almost a month with. A month with his belly full of warm comfort food and a handsome Sicilian who called him pet names while he held him in late morning sun. He had to have gained ten pounds. And, he never really knew how real his feelings were for Klaus, but even if he was just somebody to warm his own bed for a month, it wasn't like he was a bad time.

"Don't remind me. I can't believe I ever put that shit in my body. You're not supposed to eat it like that. It's a kale wrap." Diego made a show of how the (overdone, unseasoned) beef was wrapped in kale. "My body's a-"

"Temple, yeah, I get that. You know, you might want to let me cook sometime."

"Why would I do that? You'd just buy bulk ice cream again."

"Ugh, God, Diego. We were seventeen, and dad let us have fifty grams of added sugar a week. _Excuse me_ for wanting to indulge to celebrate being on our own. Besides, I've picked up some tricks."

"Yeah, I know, I bailed you out."

"No, I mean I dated this chef once! Martin." He leaned back in his chair. "Oh, the man was gifted. I don't think I've ever had something so delicious as his risotto."

"Why aren't you living with Martin, then?"

"You know how it is. You light up one joint after sex when you mean to grab a normal cigarette, and suddenly you're "a junkie" and "not welcome in the house anymore" and "need to get sober"."

"Well, you do. Need to get sober."

"Oh, here we go again. Lifestyle talk from the man who's too cheap for salt! Jesus, Diego, do you think I do this just to get high? Oxy is not a funtime drug! When I'm sober, I'm crazy and get locked up. When I'm high, I'm a junkie... and get locked up. There's no pleasing you people, is there?"

"I never said you're crazy, Klaus."

"Then why don't you ever believe me when I say I'm talking to Ben?"

"Well, you know... you always kind of wanted attention. And being the only one who can talk to him, it's definitely attention getting."

Klaus narrowed his eyes and gave him a cold stare. "Wow, Diego. That's low, even for you." He stood up and lit his cigarette. "I bet you think I'm like fucking Vanya, don't you? You think I'm ordinary! Just because _my powers_ were never used on mission."

"Fine, Klaus. Show me."

"What?"

"Show me how bad it gets, show me you're not crazy."

Klaus stays sober for a whole week out of spite for his brother. Put up with every garbage meal put on his plate, sweat through his night terrors, keeping his Walkman blasting as loudly as possible when the ghosts got too much. And Diego, for once, finally started to get it. Until he fell on the shower floor, and broke his leg, the pain treatment already greeting him like an old friend.


	3. Allison

Allison was probably Klaus'... second favorite of his siblings after Ben died. Yes, he still could _talk_ to Ben, but it wasn't quite right. The problem with ghosts was that they tended to be trapped in their final moments, emotionally, so Ben as a ghost was snappy, rude and judgmental. And he wasn't afraid to tell him to his face, either, but he wanted to cut down on acknowledging his brother outside of the sanctuary of the boiler room. 

Diego was out, still. Part of him wondered if he'd gotten arrested, but Eudora would've called him if that was true. But the caller ID on the phone was Allison. He perked up considerably as he greeted her. "Good morning, schwester. Wait. Time difference. It's night out there, right?"

"Yeah, earlier than it is at home. Why are you up so late?"

"Diego's on a date with his _cop_, and I don't like being home alone." He sat on the table. "What's up?"

"Well, Claire is a few months old, and you guys haven't come to see her yet. I was wondering if you knew." She almost seemed embarrassed to ask.

"No, no, no, yeah, yeah, yeah," he made out, rushed. "Yeah, I've seen in the magazines. I just, me and Diego are kind of strapped for cash right now. His fights haven't been going very well for him the past couple times since he got put in heavyweight, even though he's not." He dragged one of his hands down his face. "As much as I hate to say anything about traveling with a baby, maybe you could come by train?"

"I was actually going to invite Diego up," she said, after a pause. "I already wired him the money for a plane ticket, if you could pass the message along."

That... that _hurt_. That she'd already made arrangements for Diego to visit the happy family. "Wait, just him?"

"Klaus, you know that," she sighed. "I'm not a 19-year-old heiress model anymore. I have a husband, a house, and a kid. You have to know that it wouldn't- it's not safe to have you around Claire."

"What?" he almost screeched. "_I'm_ too dangerous, but you'll let Wal-Mart Batman around your _baby_?! What the actual fuck, Allison? You went from offering me a full ride to one of your rich people rehab places to 'I can't be in the same time zone as you'? What, do you think I'll pawn her off for E?"

She took a shaky breath, and he knew that tone of voice that she was about to give. Way too rational. Heartless, even. And then. "_I heard a rumor... that you were sober._" He didn't even remember hearing those words, but he moved to the sink and dropped his tequila sunrise down the drain, still on the line with her. "How about... I send Diego that extra money, yeah? I was wrong. I... really want to see you there, too. I have some new clothes you might like. You still like sundresses, yeah?"

Klaus doesn't remember why he was on the verge of tears, but he choked out and managed. "Yeah."

* * *

Allison embraced Klaus tightly when the chauffeur brought them to her house from LAX, and he melted into his sister's embrace. She looked really good for having given birth only about three months ago. 

And Claire... Claire was even more charming than her mother. He bounced her on his leg, making sure to support her head, mumbling happily to her, alternating between English, German, and Russian.

"You seem a little less... haunted than usual," she remarked, pulling Klaus' attention from his darling niece, but still keeping the motion up. 

"Yeah, you know, new development. New development means no ghosts, means no," he lolled his head back, looking for the word. "Temptation." He returned to Claire.

"Wait, really? That's all it takes?"

"Well, yeah. I can't believe I have to explain to you guys still that I don't do it for _fun_." He stuck his tongue out at her and made a funny face. Ben was absolutely entranced, as well. 

"I want you to have one."

"You can't just _expect _me to have a kid." He looked back at him.

"What did he say?"

"He wants me to get a kid. Like... I can't get married yet, but sure, I'll get right on adoption. I'm sure there's no red tape to be cut," he said sarcastically.

"Wait, weren't you seeing that artist guy who put you in portraits for his galleries?"

"Well, I was, but who pops the L word after two weeks?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"You know, sometimes I think you're the one with the power to make people do what you want," she laughed a little, taking Claire. "It's time for her nap."

After she was put down, he leaned back in the chair. "What do you mean by that?"

"Every time we catch up, you tell me about like, five guys who fell in too deep for you. Why don't you just settle down? It's pretty great."

He looked up, kind of surprised. "No, oh no. Allison, I, you don't think these guys _actually_ fell for me, right? Like, it's just a shack up thing. You know. A week with a child star in their bed, the _hottest _member of the Umbrella Academy, while I get somewhere to go when me and Diego have our, you know, tiffs. It's a mutual situation."

"Martin catered one of the cosmetic launch parties I go to. He's wrecked, Klaus."

"He's the one who kicked me out."

She shook her head. "Is it too hard to admit that some people actually like you?"

"You're asking me if I'm a well-adjusted adult after our dad literally ranked his favorite children, made it our names, and thought it was a good idea to lock me away in solitary confinement for hours at a time, sometimes days," he deadpanned. "Of _course_ I have self worth issues! It might as well be the title to Vanya's book! The biographies of 7 emotionally stunted adults!" he paused. Well, there was Five. "I mean, 6."

"Ben-"

"Is listening to you, and _very_ offended." 

"I'm not."

"Who asked you?"

"You know, if it's been helping you, you can stay, if it'll keep you sober." 

"Listen, even if I'm sober, you don't want your brother traipsing around in a skirt and heels."

"Well, what if I do?" she asked, looking at him intently.

"Is this a joke?"

"No." She took one of his cold hands in her warm ones. 

"Okay. Yeah." he laughed. 

And they were together for a few months, right up until one of the banquets she went to that she brought him to. Patrick was still a little camera shy. He didn't drink, but he did take a liking to some fashion designer, who took him on his jet where they went on what could only be described as an _epic_ bender, and woke up being held by him, judging by the view from the hotel, in New York. 

_Shit_. 

He didn't tell Allison he'd fallen off the wagon, just that he had a late night escape with said designer and woke up in New York. She wasn't angry, but the ticket was for home, not the Academy.


	4. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's short because I didn't really have an idea for this one. Whoops.

Five was probably the closes thing had to a kindred spirit in his childhood. They were both, according to Reginald, ill-behaved and mischievous, and Five was a lot of fun to have around. Especially when the pair could sneak out and spend the night on the town, though there wasn't much to do. The difference was where Reginald tolerated Five's acting out because he had useful powers and was actively working towards expanding them, hence his neverending push to time travel, Klaus wasn't particularly useful, which made him particularly disposable. Someone less self destructive would've caved in and been the good little soldier like Luther. However, the silver lining to his powers was that he knew that death wasn't the end, which made him reckless.

"I don't know why you're in such a rush to go to the future. It's gonna suck," he mumbled, passing Five the joint they were sharing. "Ben was telling me about this book he was reading. You know cars and gas and all that is gonna melt the ice caps, right?"

"You're usually more pleasant when you're high."

"Well, I'm _usually_ not just coming out of the Mausoleum." he shook his head. "Come on, bro. Cut me some slack."

"When was the last time you conjured someone?" Five asked, keeping on the subject. "Without Reginald throwing you into the mausoleum where the ghosts are strong enough that pot can't even keep them at bay."

He leaned against the wall. "You know I don't like doing that, Five. I'm perfectly happy being a lookout."

"You'll end up in an early grave like this, Klaus."

"Nothing wrong with that. At least I'll leave behind a good looking corpse," he muttered. 

Five sighed and got up, looking at him with the usual disgust that his siblings did when he was caught with drugs or booze. 

Five disappeared two weeks later. Suddenly, it was even less okay that Klaus feel things. Reginald seemed more determined than ever to turn him into Diego, or worse, Luther.

In such a big house, he'd never felt so lonely, even with Ben, and now Vanya, by his side. The latter half of the numbers sticking together because Five was the best of them. The smartest, the most ambitious, the most potential. Klaus, for once, put down the drugs, spent weeks, blurring into months, trying to conjure Five.

Either Five was alive or not in the talking mood. He gave up, finally accepted the death of his brother.

Sitting cross-legged in the room that hadn't been touched, he offered a toast up to open air. "Lucky bastard," he mumbled.


	5. Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was something I've had a headcanon on for a while.  
Very heavy trigger warning for overdose, suicide, and medical horror.

Klaus was the first one to find Ben's body. He thought he was hallucinating, frozen in place. One of his bags in a lifeless hand. Klaus' bags. He wanted to scream. Wanted to run and get help. Wanted to curl up and die by his brother's corpse. Wanted to vomit. His eyes were open, empty, glassy, a small amount of spitup leaking from the corner. Jesus Christ.

Klaus knew that Ben wanted to silence the monsters, too, but not like this. Not taking way too many pills for a first time high. He crouched beside him, trying to gather his thoughts. If Reginald knew he was indirectly responsible, well, training would get one hell of a lot worse.

Things weren't helped when he saw Ben's ghost out the corner of his eye.

"Why?" He asked brokenly. "I would've helped you be safe about it."

"There wasn't time. You were too high, and it hurt too much." Ben looked down at his stomach.

"That's no excuse, you asshole!" He raised his voice before becoming very aware. It was 4 am. The house was asleep. "I have to fix this... I have to..." He ran his hands over his face, before coming up with a plan and grabbing a bedsheet. 

"You're not."

"Yes, I am. Dad will literally murder me if he finds out," he said, tying it around the light fixture, making sure it held fast. "You were really good at knots."

"He'll get a tox screen."

"I've seen your tox screens," Klaus replied. "Old man couldn't make heads or tails of what the fuck was in your blood." He propped the body up. 

"You'll be lying to them."

"We've never been honest with each other and you know it." He tied the other end of the sheet around his neck and let it hang until he heard the _crack_ of breaking bones he knew all too well. He was still shaking. He was staging a suicide. All to cover up his inability to hide his pills. "How did you find them?"

"Took one of your bags when we were drinking with Diego tonight."

Shit. Well, the body was... Adequately posed. Definitely looked hung. He took the corpse down, laid it where he found it, and screamed like he had wanted to since finding the grisly scene. "I'm sorry, Ben," he whispered.

Diego was the first there, the rest following behind. "Ben," he was sobbing over his body, now, like he wanted to. "Ben's-"

Diego was the first beside him. "What happened?" He asked, trying to soothingly rub his back, though he was obviously equally horrified.

"Ben was in my room, but the door was closed. I went to walk him back, and I found-" a fresh sob tore itself from his throat. "He was hanging."

"Liar." 

Klaus ignored him. 

Luther was angry, pulled him up and pushed him to the wall and _do you know what this will do to the team?_

Allison and Vanya held themselves as they, too, were petrified.

The sobriety that followed was hard, harder than anything, because Reginald was furious.

* * *

He was locked in a bunker.

_This place has a bunker?_

"Number Four!" Reginald's voice cut through the air. "You will bring back Number Six!" And beside him, he realized, was his brother's corpse. He was attached by IV to his brother's corpse.

The blood transfusions didn't work. Neither did the waterboarding.

Near death experiences made his powers stronger. And while he couldn't lose Ben, he couldn't move the body, couldn't physically manifest him.

The shocks didn't work, either.

Neither did leaving him for weeks at a time with his brother's body.

Then, relief. Pogo didn't fully lock the bunker. 

He needed... He needed everything to be quiet. Diego hurt his hand a few weeks ago, Grace was medicating him.

When the pair left the grounds, he passed out in an alley, the quietest things had been for months, Diego, as always, watching over him, slipping his brother another of his pain pills.


	6. Vanya

Diego had "officially" cut Klaus off after his first time getting actual sentencing. That "official" cutoff meant no more emergency contact, and just like that, Klaus was alone in the world again.

How did someone with six siblings manage that?

Klaus thought it was absolutely _hilarious_, as he laughed from the dizzying effect the medication du jour had on him. What was it today? Oxy? Codeine? E? Well, anyway, it felt fucking great already, which meant more would make him feel better. 

Right?

The next he remembered was Diego's voice, angrily shouting through the phone.

_"I'm not his fucking emergency contact anymore! If that little asshole wants to keep killing himself, here's another number."_

He dipped under again, though not quite as deep, just medicated and foggy. The perfect amount. He was in a hospital.

Then, another voice, not nearly as angry this time.

"Hey, Shaggy." God, the sound of Vanya's small, trembling voice _hurt_ sometimes.

"Hey, Velma," he replied, turning his head to see her, the picture of anxiety, her pill bottle seemingly half-empty. "I'm sorry about this, sis. Just gotta sign my discharge papers and I'll be out of your hair. Uh, when did you refill last?"

"Monday."

"God, Van, I'm sorry, I thought I took Diego off my emergency contacts list."

"So you could just go back on the street to freeze and overdose? Come on, it's almost Christmas." She moved from the chair at the foot of the bed to the one beside it. "You can stay until the New Year."

"Yeah, no thanks. I'm not really in the mood for being sequel fodder," he groaned. "My holidays babysitting my junkie brother who fakes his powers."

"That's not fair, Klaus."

He looked up for a while, then over at her again. He didn't have any malice in his eyes, or his voice. "Is this because I couldn't conjure Five? Were you all so sure he was dead that when one of our brothers really died, I couldn't see him?"

"My therapist said that when you experience a traumatic event, the-"

"The person tied to that trauma can manifest as an imaginary personality. Yeah, I've spent the past decade bouncing around rehabs, I know the explanation. That doesn't excuse you calling me a liar."

"You're still staying at my place."

A few hours later, Vanya had paid for the room and ambulance trip, and they were on the bus to her place, looking like an odd couple with his too-tight jeans, crop top, and coat, and her too-big sweater and men's jeans. The apartment was beautiful, not that he wanted to cop to saying it.

Instead, he made it to the couch and wrapped three blankets around himself, trying to manage the bone-deep cold that always followed him.

"Jesus, Klaus, have you been eating?" Vanya asked, handing him a cup of tea.

Klaus had to think on that. "Uh, some really nice guy bought me a bagel the other day."

"_Shit_, Klaus." He looked up at that. It was rare to see his sister, his gentle, mousy sister, swear. "Why didn't you come see me?"

"You know why, Vanya. It's one thing getting your past trauma aired out. It's another for you to see things as they happen."

"Will you ever forgive me?"

"I don't know, Vanya," he replied honestly. "My NA sponsor said I should make contact, but really, I only go to NA when one of Diego's buddies from the Academy catches me and takes mercy on me."

"Why don't you live with him anymore? You were good for each other." She reaches out, but he only huddles deeper in his pile of blankets, as though to hide from Ben's stare.

"Because he got tired of trying to save me." He met Ben's eyes. "I have six siblings, and only one wants anything to do with me, and it's the one who decides to keep deciding to be my life coach."

"Why don't you think me or Luther or Allison want anything to do with you?"

"I don't want it to hurt you when I die," he admitted, at length. "If it sticks, I don't want you to get wrecked. One death is enough."

"What do you mean?"

"Have you ever lost someone to an overdose?" He asked, keeping his eyes level with hers. She had, they all had, but only Klaus _knew_. "I lost my first real adult boyfriend to an overdose. He measured something wrong, or it was cut with something, but," he can't believe he was going to tell her about this. "We both died, but I was gone less time than he was. Diego could resuscitate me. All night, for weeks, he'd be in the fucking apartment, telling me how it _wasn't my fault_, how I _shouldn't cry for him_, how he wanted me to have a real life," his eyes were wet. "Way I live, you try not to make a lot of lasting connections."

Vanya was silent a while, as she tried to digest everything. That was what he missed about Diego. Diego didn't digest, he just let things roll over him like water, went with his weird shit. 

_Went_ with. 

It almost physically hurt how much Klaus missed his brother. Ever since they left, it was them against the world, for damn near a decade. And now, Klaus' inability to believe that anyone else could love him had cost him the one good thing in his life. 

"Can you manage one, Klaus? I can manage covering therapy for both of us." 

Vanya was so kind, and genuine, and gentle, always was, their father's abuse shaping her to always go out of her way to make things better for those around her so she'd finally be accepted, and shit, it felt nice to be accepted. Reginald's treatment of Klaus made him fearful, angry, like a porcelain doll that made him beautiful but so hard and cold that rarely anybody played with him for fear he'd hurt them or they'd break him. It made him uncomfortable just _existing_, in the hellish in between of death and life. 

Klaus found he fared far better in individual therapy than group, when he wasn't scared to talk up about his powers, because the therapist had been in the city when the Umbrella Academy existed. It was a weight lifted, to talk about the day horrors and night terrors, the itching under his skin when the impulse to use reared its ugly head, someone unequivocally validating that yes, Reginald Hargreeves is a monster.

But, one morning he looked in the mirror and saw a stranger. He saw someone who ate three times a day, slept in a heated apartment with no quid pro quo from the person offering, saw someone with life behind his eyes, who _could_ get a life, be loved.

That idea horrified him.

Klaus isn't loved, isn't lovable, he's a stain on the family, an embarrassment, the shambling junkie who gets his clothes from thrift store dumpsters. He doesn't know if he likes this New Klaus or not.

He decides he doesn't, and walks out the door halfway through shaving, with a note on the door. 

_i need some time to figure myself out._

_<3, Klaus_

__He doesn't see Vanya again until the funeral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell what dynamic I want to be expanded on the most?
> 
> This is definitely not the end of my Klaus and Vanya friendship works because I love gay/lesbian solidarity.


	7. Epilogue | Reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place about a year after the show, and decided to write it because Klaus deserves happiness.

A year after the almost-apocalypse, and suddenly, the Umbrella Academy were all _a thing_ again, since the group decided to live under a roof and nostalgic parents their age took notice. They weren't really crime fighting, anymore, but they found themselves local celebrities.

Klaus hated it. 

But, he never turned down an opportunity for a free meal, blame his years of homelessness. Allison was the only other one at the launch party, for some sort of intellectual property fashion collaboration. Intellectual property, because Klaus would never be caught _dead_ in those pants, and Pogo was handed responsibility of the PR in the will, because, well, he'd done it when Reginald was alive.

Klaus wasn't quite bold enough to wear a skirt, the press circus that happened when Vanya's book outed him was enough to make sure he hid from that particular limelight, but he was still in something tight, with a crop top, as always.

And by the catering counter, there was a familiar, friendly face, that made his heart break.

He made his way over to the counter and took a cucumber sandwich. "You remembered," he said fondly.

By the way Martin's expression changed, momentarily Klaus thought he was the one who saw ghosts. "Klaus? You're..."

"Uh, yeah, I'm here. Free food, you know."

"Yeah, I just... Never connected the dots. Klaus, from the city, disappointing son of some rich bastard, I, uh, totally feel like a dumbass." He laughed a little awkwardly. "Wait. I dated a member of the Umbrella Academy."

"Yeah, it was pretty great, wasn't it?"

"I'm sorry, Klaus. About breaking things off how I did."

He rested a hand on his upper arm. "I mean, nobody else wanted anything to do with me, so I was used to it. Besides. I'm sober now. Or, well, professionally medicated."

"Yeah?" He looked up, hopeful.

"Yeah, finally went to an actual therapist, got on legit antipsychotics and into a medical trial for LSD for the PTSD. Haven't used anything illegal since Dad died."

"What... What changed? You said you weren't sober since you were 13." 

"Uh, one night, I got really fucked up and enlisted," he said with a laugh. "I ended up going overseas and met someone, who I loved" his throat closed a little. "God, I loved him."

"And?"

"And then me and Dave stepped on an IED on patrol. I barely got away with my life, Dave... Wasn't so lucky."

"Shit." Martin sounded like he had the breath knocked out of him. "God, I'm so sorry."

"I was hard to treat. Even after basic, I was too underweight to anaesthetise and had too much of a resistance to the drugs. So, I got discharged after about 10 months. When I got home, I relapsed, really fucking hard."

"So, what made you seek help about it all?"

"Vanya."

"You mean the sister who wrote that awful shit about you?"

"Yeah. She had something of a nervous break after Dad died. Started dating this manipulative, abusive piece of shit. And when she realized how bad it was, I realized that we were all kinda messed up by him."

"You need a place to crash tonight? You know, for old times sake?" He stepped closer to him. "I remember you really liking my cooking."

That look. Klaus had totally forgotten about how gentle he looked, especially with sun shining through slats of blinds. "I think I can clear my schedule." Martin's gentleness was so different than Dave's. Dave was gentle in spite of the bombs, the constant mourning, the misery of monsoon season, took it all in stride and was gentle in spite of it. Martin was comfort. 

"So, you said antipsychotics?"

"Yeah, I have these powers, but, the ghost part, it's always been too much for me to handle. I could never tell what was real. So, I figured that part of my powers can stay quiet for a while."

"That _part_? I thought that was your whole thing."

"I'll show you the rest at that gorgeous apartment of yours," he replied with a grin, using his telekinesis to move a strawberry from the fruit tray to his lips. "I'm extremely creative sober."

Maybe he could stay for this one.


End file.
